The Battle of Lyndanisse
by adelineday64
Summary: How Denmark got his flag. This story does not reflect precise historical events, so do not take it seriously!


Denmark stood, admiring the castle he and the other men had just taken. It looked splendid. He turned to the army behind him.  
"This castle is our's now! Let's move in tonight!" He cried, raising his sword high in the air.  
The soldiers cheered, and began to march through the entrance.

After they were all inside, Denmark scanned the surrounding area for any approaching threats. The coast seemed to be clear, so he turned to walk toward the doors. That was when he heard a rustling sound. He turned back around to see a young boy running up the hill towards him.  
"You again..." sighed Denmark. He drew his sword. "What weapon do you have?"  
"A knife." The boy answered.  
"You don't have a chance against me. I'm bigger and stronger. One day, all of you pagans will have to bow down to our God."  
"That will never happen!" The boy shouted defiantly.  
"Livonia has already fallen and so will Latgalia soon. You'd better accept your fate, filthy pagan!" bragged Denmark.  
The boy lunged at Denmark angrily, slashing at his hand, before running down the hill swearing quietly.

_15 June 1219_

"Before you leave, I just have some words for you." said a Bishop, approaching Denmark and the soldiers.  
"What is it, Theoderik?"  
"The Aesti are fierce fighters who won't give up their ways so easily. They will resort to any means possible to ensure victory, no matter the circumstances."  
"So? You're not really making much sense, old man."  
"I'm saying that you shouldn't take them lightly. They could pull a nasty trick at anytime."  
"Well, hopefully they won't ambush us at a time like - " An arrow whizzed past Denmark's face as he said this. "Theoderik, where do you think that came from?" He asked, anxiously.  
The Bishop never answered.

~

Denmark stared in shock at the sheer number of Aesti that were charging towards him and the others. Since when were there so many?  
Feeling overwhelmed, he was briefly distracted by a group of fleeing knights. Who could blame them for being cowardly?  
He felt something ram into his side. He twisted in pain, turning to face his attacker. It was that boy again, curse him!  
The boy smirked, a hint of satisfaction in his green eyes. "How do you feel, now that I've killed your precious bishop?" He said tauntingly.  
"You think I care?!" Denmark shouted, clutching his side. He swung his sword at the boy, missing.  
"It's hard, using your right hand now, isn't it?"  
"Shut up, I'll just use my left!"  
Denmark switched his sword to his left hand and swung again. The boy simply stepped out of the way. Denmark glared at him, envying his agility.

The two of them exchanged sword thrust upon sword thrust, whoever grew tired first was the loser. Since the boy was smaller and appeared to have some difficulty keeping his sword in the air, Denmark figured that the victory would soon be his. He used his remaining strength to bring his sword down over the boy's head, however the boy was able to counter the blow just in time. They were now in a deadlock, Denmark trying to push down and his enemy trying to push up.  
"Why won't you just give up?!" cried Denmark, sweat running down his forehead. To his surprise, the boy began to grin mischievously.  
"What's so funny?!"  
"This." The boy remarked, kicking Denmark in the groin and quickly taking his sword from him.

At first, Denmark couldn't feel anything, then the pain came. It hurt like hell (please excuse this word).  
"You son of a bitch!" He screamed, putting his hand to his crotch. He fell to his knees and looked up at the boy's face, that nightmarish expression burning itself into his memory.  
The boy pointed his sword at Denmark's throat. "Prepare to meet your stupid god in your pathetic heaven!" There was a clap of thunder as he said this. Denmark swallowed in fear. He looked around him and saw an old man on his knees in prayer not so far away.

The old man slowly raised his arms towards heaven, and a light shone down from the sky, brightening up the night. Everyone looked up in amazement, including Denmark and the boy.  
"What's that thing fluttering up there?" asked one soldier.  
"It looks like a piece of cloth." replied another.  
As the piece of 'cloth' fell closer to Earth, Denmark was able to make out that it was red with a white cross on it, which for some reason stirred something in him that he had never felt before. "I must have it." He whispered to himself. Too bad his opponent appeared to feel the same way.

"Mine!" They both cried, leaping towards the glowing piece of cloth, completely forgetting the battle they were fighting just before.  
Denmark reached for the cloth with his right hand, and used his left hand to claw the other boy in the face, which caused him to lose balance and tumble down the hill. He grabbed the red thing triumphantly and waved it in the air above his head. This encouraged his fellow men and they charged at the Aesti with renewed strength.

_Present Day_

Estonia and Latvia stood outside the UN headquarters looking at the numerous flags there.  
"You have quite a nice looking flag, Estonia." said Latvia.  
"Do you really think so?"  
"Yes." Latvia said cheerfully. "It really fits you."

As they walked past the Nordic flags, Estonia took off his glasses momentarily and rubbed his eyes, an act that always puzzled Latvia.  
"Why do you do that?" asked Latvia.  
"There was dust in my eyes, that's all. Let's move along, shall we?"


End file.
